I was originally going to call this post Cabo Bob vs. Chipotlé. That idea changed soon after. I’ll tell you why.

I rolled over to neighborhood Wal-Mart today because my buddy Eric wanted me to pick up a certain Transformer for him that is only sold in Texas. Sadly for him, they did not have it. I also wanted to find some din din. Authentic din din.

Their Wal Marts are the natural color of the corporation: devil red.

After minutes of searching in despair, I found what I was looking for on the other side of the Wal Mart parking lot: Cabo Bob’s.

Cabo Bob’s looked harmless enough on the outside. On the inside, though, I was surprised, for they made their tortillas ON FUCKING SITE. The man grabbed a wad of dough and created a tortilla right before my eyes.

Burrito presser. You saw it here first.

When it was all done, my cheddar tortilla burrito (you had four choices) was full of white rice, lettuce, chicken, onion, sour cream queso, mozzarella cheese, salsa, and lime. The steamy burrito was large enough to rival Chipotlé’s. It tasted unbelievable. I don’t think I’ve ever had the right to use the word “zesty” until now. It was an incredible experience. I didn’t care how long I sat there watching the shitty Mets play on the TV. I savored every bite of it.

Chipotlé has stiff competition, indeed.

Twenty-three minutes later, I found myself in a different area of Cabo Bob’s. Gripping the handicap railing and struggling for balance on the toilet seat in the bathroom, I was contending against the relentless fury that Cabo Bob had dealt upon me.

Curse you, Cabo Bob. My colon will never be the same.

I’ll be back tomorrow.